


Seeing Red

by Happy_Haunts



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, eventually, multi chaptered, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:46:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7955530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happy_Haunts/pseuds/Happy_Haunts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon is worried about Baz. He's been acting differently for weeks and something is off. At first, Simon isn't sure what to think because Baz is always cool, ahead of the game, and he is the last person that Simon would be worried about.  He knows something is wrong and he's going to find out what it is! But when Simon gets wrapped up in something much darker than he ever would have imagined, he wonders if maybe Agatha had the right idea from the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeing Red

**Author's Note:**

> Work needs to be done, other fics need to be updated, and yet, here I am. Alright, so I'm planning on this being relatively dark just because, you know, character flaws are what make them interesting and I actually enjoy angst. I'm hoping you guys won't immediately be turned off by angst or anything like that because there will be a happy ending, in theory. This is a short little chapter to see what your thoughts are on this so comments are much appreciated and important to the continuation of this fic. Interest is key here because this is not your typical fluff story (which I also enjoy occasionally). Let me know!

Simon was fed up.

 There was only so may times you could read the same line over and over before giving up. Studying had never been his strong suit and that was more and more evident as the year went on. He shoved the biology text he had been reading off his lap and leaned back against the wall with a sigh. He was not in a good mood.

 He ran his fingers through his curls agitatedly. He wondered if Penny would bring home take out tonight or if he would be forced to attempt to use the kitchen appliances. It wasn’t like he was _bad_ at cooking per se (it didn’t matter what everyone told him- he was working on it!) but Penny had restricted him to the toaster until she could set aside the time to teach him how everything worked (“Oh hell Simon, it’s not that hard. I’m just glad I live here- you better be grateful!”) And Simon was, because without Penny he would probably have burnt down the flat by now.

 Christ. Even without his magic he still managed to cause some sort of catastrophe. It was comforting somehow, in a fucked up sort of way. Not much had really changed.

 The slamming of a door interrupted his thoughts and as if on cue Penny called out, “Simon! I brought dinner!” which was unnecessary considering Simon could already smell it and was out into the main room before she could even finish.

  _Nothing gets him moving faster than hot food,_ Penny noted with amusement watching as he pulled the Chinese takeout boxes out of the plastic bag. He already had the one of the boxes open and half of its contents in his mouth before Penny had even taken off her coat.

 “Hello Simon, how are you? Yes, my day was fantastic thank you for asking.” Simon rolled his eyes good naturedly at this, prevented from responding because his mouth was still crammed with noodles. He swallowed.

 “I’m glad you had a good day. I am _especially_ glad you brought dinner.” Now it was Penny’s turn to roll her eyes.

 “Well, I figured without me you would undoubtedly starve. Or poison yourself with whatever god awful thing you find in the back of the fridge.”

 “That was one time! How was I supposed to know that it had gone off?”

 “The smell might have been a clue.”

 “I microwaved it and may have, erm, burned it a little bit so it was hard to tell and I- I am not talking about this again. I learned my lesson about food poisoning, alright?”

 Penny grinned. “Yes, well it wasn’t all terrible. If I recall, your boyfriend, your vampire boyfriend with the superhuman immune system was there for all three days. I swear he thought you were going to die, he wouldn’t leave your side…” She suddenly trailed off at Simon’s darkening expression. “Is something wrong?”

 Simon waved a hand dismissively and sat down on the couch, box of noodles in hand. He poked moodily at his food and shrugged. “No, not really. I just haven’t heard a lot from Baz lately. He told me last week that he was going to be taking some time to study for his exams, and I get that, but I haven’t really seen or talked to him for a while. At all.”

 Penny flopped down next to him on the couch. “I’m sure he’s just really worried about his classes. You know how he is.”

 Simon shook his head. “Yeah, I know but lately he’s been sort of…off I guess. Did you know he started smoking again a few weeks ago?  I know he’s stressed and he thinks it can’t affect him because he claims he’s dead or whatever, but for Christ’s sake Penny he’s fucking flammable. At the very least I wish he wouldn’t do it because he cares about himself.”

 “Not to state the obvious, but have you talked to him about it?”

 Simon looked down. “Actually, yeah. We had a big row about it last week and that was when he told me he was going to be busy and that he was going to stay at Fiona’s for a while.”

 Penny’s gaze softened and she set her food down onto the coffee table before reaching over and wrapping her arms around Simon and squeezing tight.

 “And it’s not just that. He just seems really distracted a lot and he sort of drifts off when I’m talking to him like he’s thinking about something else.” Simon sighed. “I don’t know Pen, I guess I just miss him. He used to be practically living here and now, I don’t know.”

 “Oh, Simon, I’m sure it’s fine. My theory is that he’s been very busy with class and adjusting to the city and all that. Maybe he got a little overwhelmed with the holidays coming up.”

 Simon didn’t look convinced but eventually he leaned back and smiled. “Right. The holidays. I’m probably overreacting. Now I just need to figure out how to pass biology.”

 Penny returned his smile. “Come on, let’s see if we can find a Christmas special or something.” She turned on the TV and flipped through their recordings and found quite a few holiday specials stored up. “Oh let’s watch Rudolph!” Simon grinned, troubles momentarily forgotten. He had always loved holiday specials. There was something very comforting to settling in to watch fun Christmas-themed movies.

 A few hours later, Simon woke up still on the couch that was bathed in the artificial glow of the television that was still on. Penny was asleep on his shoulder, drooling and Simon couldn’t help taking a picture with her mobile. He yawned and glanced back at the telly where there was some sort of news programme on. Apparently there had been a few bodies found throughout the city and a newswoman confirmed in a dramatic intonation that it was some sort of terrorist attack to send some sort of message or another. Simon switched it off feeling queasy. There was a reason he didn’t watch the news often and mostly because It was depressing. It was always about a murder or wars or a child kidnapping, something to remind everyone that even if they had a good day, there were plenty of people who didn’t.

 Penny liked to watch the news and follow all the stations on twitter and things like that, maintaining it was important to be informed, but Simon always figured if something important happened she would tell him. He really was pathetically dependent on Penny for certain things and it made him feel a rush of affection for Penny, for putting up with such a mess. He shook her shoulder gently and she opened her eyes slowly before sitting up so fast Simon jerked back. “What time is it?”

 Simon clicked her mobile on. “Almost midnight.”

 Penny cursed and stood up. “I meant to call Micah an hour ago! Oh no, now I missed it, He has practice now!” She fussed for a minute, heading to the kitchen to put away the leftovers before standing and tapping her foot. She grabbed the mobile out of Simon’s hand and stomped towards her room, muttering words under her breath. Simon heard the door slam shut a few seconds later. Simon stretched and reached into his back pocket to check his mobile. He had a few emails, and a text from Agatha. But nothing from Baz. He doubled checked just to make sure and then switched it off, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

 A few months ago, Agatha had emailed Simon to ask him how he was doing. Up until that point Simon had no idea that she and Penny were still more or less in touch ever since Agatha left for America. They had exchanged a few emails and then Agatha started talking to him again through calls and texts, sending him pictures from California and her new dog and told him all about her new boyfriend. Simon honestly wasn’t angry or upset at Agatha for leaving and he was fine with keeping up with her occasionally. He couldn’t really blame her for wanting to get out after all that happened. Just because she wasn’t his destiny (as crazy as that sounds to him now) he saw nothing wrong with them being friends. She had sent him a picture of the golden gate bridge, with the message: _going to san Francisco, isn’t it exciting???_

Simon hadn’t told her about Baz, or at least that they were dating. He told her that all three of them were still friends and that he still saw Baz all the time, but decided to leave out the fact that Baz spent most nights in Simon’s bed (just sleeping of course!) because he didn’t really want to hear what Agatha might say, how it was dangerous or that he wasn’t gay or something like that. He and Agatha were not really close enough to have any kind of discussion like that anyways.

 Well. That may not be an issue anymore considering that Simon rarely saw him anyway. He ran a hand through his hair and felt a little disgusted with himself. _Why should I care anyways? I am not one of these people who doesn’t have a life outside of their boyfriend, I am_ not.

 Still…if he would just answer his phone. Or his texts. Simon pulled up the call screen on his mobile and his finger hovered over Baz’s name in his contacts. It was late, but experience told Simon Baz would probably still be up. Simon hit his name and put the phone to his ear. It rang once, twice, three times until someone picked up on the fourth ring. For a split second, Simon felt relief spread through him. He had expected the usual automated voice that told him to leave a message and that reminded him that once again that Baz didn’t want to talk to him.

 The feeling instantly disappeared and was replaced by an icy coldness when an unfamiliar voice answered. “ _Hello, you’ve reached the Queen of England, or should I say the ice princess, can I take a message?”_ This was followed by laughter in the background. The voice was male and slightly slurred. It was even harder to understand what what he was saying due to the impressive amount of noise in the background that was a combination of loud music and people shouting.

 Simon didn’t have an idea how to respond and he opened and closed his mouth a few times and nothing came out. Eventually he asked, in a flat tone, “I’m looking for Baz Pitch. This is his phone, right?”  The guy, whoever it was, snapped something to someone else and although his voice was muffled, Simon could make out the words _anybody seen the princess? He’s got a phone call.”_ This was followed by some more yelling and laughing. _“Hold on.”_

Simon sat, waiting, the grip around his mobile so tight that he was surprised it didn’t break in his hand. His other hand was clenched into a fist and his fingernails were digging into his palm. He didn’t know what to think. Who the fuck had Baz’s fucking phone and where the hell was he? As far as Simon knew, Baz was supposed to be home studying or something like that. Not out at a fucking party or wherever he was.

 A few minutes later he heard a muffled conversation and a few shuffling sounds before a familiar voice said in a tone drenched with surprise (and maybe a little nervousness?):

  _“Simon?”_

 At the sound of Baz’s voice, bright and confused Simon felt anger begin to replace his initial shock and he exhaled sharply. “Yeah. It’s me.” He said this as evenly as he could, trying not to give into the urge to chuck the phone across the room.

 There was a few moments of silence. _“Oh. Why are you calling? It’s late, shouldn’t you be asleep? Don’t you have work in the morning?_

At this, Simon had to close his eyes. He could feel his tail swishing angrily behind him and for a few seconds he was literally speechless. He had been calling Baz everyday, wondering how he was doing and to tell him stupid things like he missed him and here Baz had the nerve to ask _why he was calling_. To act like he cared that Simon was up so late. And to make it even worse, Baz was most definitely not sober. Simon had never really seen Baz as anything less than perfectly composed and it pissed him off as much as it concerned him.

 “Are you really surprised that I’m calling you, Baz or are you purposely being a idiot?” Suddenly Simon’s anger exploded and a rush of words poured out of him like a dam had burst. “What do you mean ‘why are you calling?’ What the actual fuck are you talking about? I call you every fucking day, because you haven’t talked to me in a week but excuse me for wanting to talk to my boyfriend.” Simon’s voice increased in volume as his speech continued, “God forbid that I interfere with your “studying” or whatever you’re actually doing because it seems that you’re having a fanfuckingtastic time doing whatever you’re doing wherever you are because it definitely is not studying. It’s always really exciting when you call your boyfriend and someone else picks up after a week of being ignored. Yeah that’s always really fun.” Simon knew he was being dramatic and probably sounded insane but he was too angry to care.

 There was another long silence, so long in fact, that normally Simon would have thought he had hung up but the noise in the background proved otherwise. Having said most of what he wanted to, he waited. When Baz spoke the next few words, his blood ran cold.

  _“I’m not your fucking responsibility, Snow.”_ The words were harsh and Simon could practically hear the sneer in his voice. _“I’m an adult, believe it or not, and I don’t need to check with you or anyone.”_ The effect was somewhat ruined by the slurring, which grew more pronounced with each syllable but he continued, _“Despite what you imply, I am busy and I don’t have time for your ridiculous problems every single time you can’t fucking handle them on your own. I’m not your keeper, Snow, and sometimes I wish you would just be quiet so I can actually get something done every once in a while.”_

 Had this been a few years ago, Simon would have gone off and probably set a few buildings on fire. In fact the building feeling up to him actually going off was still similar when he got angry, his blood boiling and feeling like electricity was sparking through his veins. As it was, all he could do was sit there, frozen, and ignore the hurt that replaced the anger and made his chest ache.

 And it really hurt. Simon wanted to respond like he used to, with some cutting remark or retort but instead he simply hung up and stared into the dark. He felt something wet hit the back of his hand and he realized that he was crying. He scrubbed his face furiously and immediately tried to stop. This was stupid. Screw him.

 He stood up and walked down the hall to the bathroom and flipped on the light switch. He flinched when the light hurt his eyes and he splashed some water on his face and took a shuddering breath, trying not to freak out. A nice little side effect from the traumatic events at Watford. If he got too worked up he would start to get hysterical to the point where he couldn’t breathe and his he felt like he would pass out. He laughed humourlessly to himself. Even without his magic he had to try and control himself because one way or another, he would end up in some sort of disaster. Being subject to the occasional panic attack was only a problem for himself though, which he supposed was an improvement.

 Ironically, it was normally Baz who would be there for him, comforting him and holding him, to try and get Simon to calm down. He would wrap Simon securely in his arms and stroke the hair off his face, saying soothing things and murmuring in his hair.

 Now as Simon stood there gripping the sink and trying to calm down, the memories only making it worse and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

 “Simon!” A panicked voice from outside the bathroom door. Penny waited for a split second before throwing open the door and upon seeing Simon, grabbed him and pulled him to her chest in an imitation of her hug earlier. “Shhh it’s alright, you’re fine Simon, I’m right here.”

Penny’s fruity scented conditioner (apples maybe?) was comforting and familiar and Simon found his breathing returning to normal and his body relaxing against his best friend.

 A few minutes later, she released him and looked at him, her expression serious as she scanned him for lingering signs of a panic attack. When she found none she let out of a sigh of relief. “What happened? I heard you yelling on the phone.”

 Simon shook his head. “Don’t want to talk about it. Maybe later.”

 She studied him for a few more seconds. “Alright. Do you want some tea?”

 Simon thought for a second and then nodded. After Penny walked off towards the kitchen he headed into his room and leaving the door open, crawled into bed without so much as taking off his jeans. He was suddenly very tired.

 Penny came in a few minutes later with a steaming mug in her hand. She sat gently on the edge of his bed and put the tea on the bedside table. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about anything?”

 Simon nodded and said softly, “Yeah I’ll be fine, I’m just tired. Thanks Pen.”

 She seemed to hesitate for a second longer before standing up and walking to the door. “Goodnight, then.” She shut the door as gently as possible and Simon heard her footsteps move away back to her own room. He sat up and sat with the warm mug in his hands before drinking it down. Peppermint. It was very relaxing and Simon couldn’t keep his eyes open. He laid back down and gave into sleep. His last thoughts were how lucky he was to have someone like Penelope, so he was never completely alone in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah just to clarify, this is not angst for the sake of angst. Plot development will follow. Thanks for reading, your opinion is appreciated!


End file.
